Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

“I’m happy to oblige, ma belle. I can come up with other types of orgasms we can try out.” Lie — I don’t need to come up with them. My perverted head has been filled with them since the moment I walked in here and saw her kneeling on the floor.

“But first,” I continue, “I need you to tell your daddy and my daddy that you’re calling off the engagement.”

“That won’t happen.”

I scroll through my phone, feigning a sigh. “Then I guess Ethan can see what places his daughter frequents. Are you sure you want to scar him with the image of your tits? Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful tits, but they’re not fit for your dad. Unless…you have a daddy kink?”

She gulps audibly, her delicate throat moving with the motion. One day, I don’t know when, but I’m going to grab her by that throat and fuck the living shit out of her until she can’t move.

Okay. That was too explicit even for my perverted brain.

“Besides,” I continue. “I assure you, Earl Edric Astor wouldn’t approve of a daughter-in-law who likes to be treated like a slut. Since I’m a gentleman, I’m giving you the chance to walk out of this unscathed. We both get what we want. Win-win.”

We stare at each other for a second. I watch her body language for a sign. Her chest that used to rise and fall heavily is now serene, calm almost.

Good. She learnt her place.

Just then, she pounces on me. No kidding — she jumps at me like a flying animal, her legs wrapping around my waist as she lunges straight at the phone in my hand.

Well, fuck me.

Out of all the reactions I expected from her, this was the last. Fuck, it wasn’t even on the list. She didn’t let her height keep her down when she made the decision to come at me.

A fighter.

Why the hell do I want to break that or somehow engross myself in it?

Her face reddens as her gown bunches up her thighs in her struggle to reach my hand. Even by using my body as some sort of a ladder, she can’t reach the phone.

I keep it up. When she thinks she’s got it, I throw it to the other hand, making her cheeks redden more, her chest rising more. Her breathing turns harsh, causing her tits to strain against my bare chest.

When she realises she can’t reach it, she scratches my arm with her black-painted nails. The sting burns my skin and I react immediately, slamming her back against the wall.

A yelp escapes her throat, but before she can react, I grab both her wrists in one hand and pin them above her head, securing them with a hand.

Now, I have a tiny frame wrapping her legs around my waist, her chest against mine, and her arms are confined.

At my mercy.

Or the lack thereof.

“Let me go,” she hisses, but her gaze follows my hand that’s clutching the phone as I let it fall to my side.

I motion at the angry red scratch marks on my forearm. It’s like I’ve been attacked by a kitten — a small, furious kitten.

“You hurt me,” I say with a dispassionate tone.

“You want a prize for that?” She strains, trying to get free, but I’m pinning her so thoroughly she’s barely able to move.

“No. I’m more interested in justice. You hurt me, so I should hurt you back, don’t you think?”

To her credit, she tries to hide it, but her eyes widen the slightest bit, and to my fucking surprise, it’s not out of fear.

A spark just passed through the dim colour of her eyes, almost like a shooting star in a moonless night. It disappears as soon as it appears.

Well, well, well.

Looks like Teal Van Doren has perfect control over her expression. But there’s something she’s not quite successful at controlling — something that permeates the air with a musky, distinctive smell.